The moment I lunged, time fractured into sharp, vivid pieces. The firelight cast Logan's shadow long across the cabin floor as I surged forward. My hands, freed by Rope Handling Mastery, shot towards his wrist—the one clutching the gun.
His eyes widened with surprise. He raised the weapon just as my left hand clamped onto his wrist. My right hand slammed into his forearm. The gun jerked upward.
The shot shattered the tension. The recoil sent the muzzle skyward, the bullet punching a hole through the wooden ceiling. Splinters rained down like burning embers. My heart pounded in my ears as I twisted his arm, forcing the barrel away from me.
Logan roared and threw his weight into me, driving a knee into my ribs. Pain flared through my torso. The ropes had cut into my skin for hours, leaving my muscles stiff and raw. The impact knocked the air from my lungs, but my grip held.
It was because of my Endurance Boost skill, even though it wasn't designed for this, it was still passively helping me. In fact, the pain dulled just enough for me to react. I pushed against his arm, forcing the gun further upward.
The gun discharged repeatedly. The flash of the muzzle painted jagged shadows across Logan's twisted expression. Bullets punched through the ceiling and windows. The rain outside hissed louder as shards of glass rained down.
His thumb shifted toward the magazine release. I saw it. Felt the tension in his tendons.
He's trying to reload.
I twisted his wrist again. Bone and tendon strained beneath my grip. He grunted and retaliated with a sharp elbow to my jaw. My head snapped sideways, vision splitting into static. My Dust Mask cracked slightly against the impact, and warm blood spattered the inside.
The mask smeared crimson across my face, each breath thick with iron and heat. But my grip didn't falter. I slammed his arm against the wooden chair I'd been tied to moments ago.
The gun clattered to the ground.
Logan crashed into me shoulder-first, driving me backward. My spine collided with the rough cabin wall. He moved with a firefighter's strength, muscle honed from hauling hoses and smashing through burning walls. His hands locked around my throat, and he drove me against the splintered wood.
I planted my feet against the ground, gritting through the pressure. My vision darkened at the edges, but the mask kept my airways unobstructed. His thumbs pressed beneath the reinforced filter, trying to crush through the design Camille had crafted.
I shoved my knee into his side. He didn't flinch. His grip tightened.
My system interface pulsed in the corner of my vision.
Observation. Rope Handling Mastery. Strategist.
None were designed for this kind of fight. I could feel the faint edge Endurance Boost granted me, keeping me from collapsing under the pain and pressure as well as Instincts screaming at me to punch again. But Logan was relentless, his breath ragged with rage.
"You think... you're special?" he hissed, spittle hitting the mask's surface. "You think you're better than me? You're nothing without Fox."
I am Fox, you bastard! I thought as my hands shot upward, thumbs driving into the soft tissue beneath his jaw with raw, firefighter strength. He choked, momentarily loosening his grip. I surged forward, slamming my forehead into his nose.
He howled and staggered back, blood streaming from his nostrils. I coughed and sucked in a breath. My lungs burned with each inhale.
Logan tackled me mid-motion. We crashed onto the floorboards. His fist slammed into my side—once, twice—each blow targeting my ribs. My mask cushioned my face against the wooden planks, but I felt blood dripping from the crack.
His weight pinned me. My limbs screamed in protest. The pain blurred into white noise, but this time it was Endurance Mastery that was helping me. As if barely decreasing what I was feeling.
I twisted my body with every ounce of strength I had. The wooden floor groaned beneath us as I managed to roll over, reversing our positions. Logan's fist crashed into the side of my jaw again, snapping my head to the side.
I spat blood. My vision swam.
Then something clicked in my mind. A memory.
Officer Mendez. One of the officers that I was running to the park with.
My system interface flickered. The Strategist skill hummed with clarity.
Copied Skill: Hand-to-Hand Combat (Lv. 1) – Source: Officer Mendez
A rush of instinct flooded my muscles. My stance adjusted on its own. My weight shifted into a stable center of gravity, my breathing aligning with the rhythms of a fight.
Logan's next punch came wild and fast. I blocked it with my forearm and drove my fist into his throat.
He gagged. I twisted his wrist until his arm bent at an unnatural angle. The bones strained beneath my grip.
He tried to pull back. I didn't let him.
I struck his solar plexus with a short, brutal punch. He collapsed to his knees, gasping. The wet floor beneath us soaked through my clothes—water, blood, and sweat mingling in the firelight.
His eyes locked on mine. Desperate. Terrified.
My fists lashed out, driven by the newly acquired technique. I struck with calculated precision—jaw, temple, ribs. Each impact reverberated through my body like a drumbeat. Logan flailed in defense, but his strength waned beneath the relentless assault.
"Please," he coughed, blood trailing from his lips. "Don't—"
I didn't listen. I reached for the fallen gun and leveled it at him.
"Wait!" Logan raised his hands, eyes wide with panic. "Don't you see that we are both victims of society?! I—I can help you become an A-Rank! We can get the recognition we deserve!"
My arms trembled from exhaustion. Blood from my cracked mask dripped onto the barrel.
"No," I said softly. "You burned this city. You killed Chief Ryan. You tormented Sasha."
He sobbed, shoulders shaking. His mouth opened to plead again.
The shot punched through his shoulder. He screamed.
Each shot struck his chest, tearing through the hoodie. Blood blossomed across the fabric. His body jerked with each impact, eyes dulling with each second.
I kept firing until the click of an empty chamber echoed through the cabin.
The silence that followed was absolute. The rain outside seemed muted. My breath rasped through the mask's broken filter. The gun slipped from my fingers, clattering to the floor.
The system interface flickered.
[Event Quest Completed: The Hunt for Cipher]
The words swam across my vision. My legs gave out.
The world tilted sideways as I hit the ground. Pain lanced through my ribs and shoulders. My pulse slowed, the adrenaline fading into a cold, hollow ache. The fire's glow blurred as darkness closed in. My blood leaking in a pool under me.
I remembered this feeling. It was similar to when Logan knocked me out in the woods. This time, the cause was the same, but the sensation was slightly different—like sinking beneath cold, unforgiving waves very slowly.
The rain tapped against the shattered window. Footsteps echoed faintly outside. Distant shouts followed.
I hoped they'd find me in time.
Then everything went black.